


Freefall

by setissma



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-12 11:13:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19569625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setissma/pseuds/setissma
Summary: Harry checked his watch for a third time. Pansy was actively tapping her foot, looking annoyed, and when she saw him do it, she downed the rest of her drink.“I’m calling it,” she said. “Either something came up at work or they’re shagging in some utterly inappropriate place and forgot about dinner.”





	Freefall

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the same universe as [Vendetta](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12603196) and runs vaguely parallel to [Foundation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18227666). Everything will make significantly more sense if you read those two first.

Harry checked his watch for a third time. Pansy was actively tapping her foot, looking annoyed, and when she saw him do it, she downed the rest of her drink.

“I’m calling it,” she said. “Either something came up at work or they’re shagging in some utterly inappropriate place and forgot about dinner.”

“They’re not that bad,” Harry said, then amended: “I mean, usually.”

“They really are,” Pansy said, dryly. “I could enter the coat room at the Ministry Christmas party last year into evidence.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Emphasis on usually.”

“Anyway,” Pansy said. “I’m going home. I can make Draco feel horrifically guilty tomorrow. Don’t let me know if they show up.”

“Are you kidding me? I hate this restaurant. I’m not staying either.”

“I can’t figure out why Draco likes it. The drinks are abysmal. The food is worse.”

“No clue.” Harry leaned over the bar to the enchanted register. “I’ll get yours.”

Pansy picked up her bag. “I’d protest and try to go dutch, but you’d know I wouldn’t mean it.”

“I think the phrase you’re looking for is, ‘Thank you.’”

“Something like that,” Pansy said. “Feel free to convey to Draco that he ruined my evening. I’m so looking forward to cooking something at nine o’clock at night.”

“That’s definitely not happening on my end. For one thing, there’s no food in the flat. And I just worked sixteen hours.” He held open the door for her. “There’s a decent Italian place a couple of blocks over.”

“That doesn’t sound entirely terrible,” Pansy said, thoughtfully.

Harry glanced over at her. “Is that a hint you’re looking for an invitation? Because I should probably warn you that getting dinner would mean tolerating my company for at least another thirty minutes.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” she said. “But only if the aubergine parmigiana is edible.”

Harry grinned. “No promises, no one I eat with would waste perfectly good sauce on vegetables.”

“Draco claims you can cook. I have serious reservations.”

“Fortunately, I’m not cooking anything.”

She followed him down two blocks, then ducked through a small doorway between two buildings.

“This might bring new meaning to hole in the wall, Potter.”

“Yeah, but the food’s good. And I can guarantee you the wine’s better than whatever they had back there.”

“That’s a very low bar,” Pansy said. “On the other hand, my cocktail had effectively no alcohol, so I’m willing to try a red.”

“A bottle of merlot it is,” Harry said, as a waiter brought bread and took their orders. “I guess now we have to entertain each other until we can eat.”

“Or just drink heavily.”

“How’s work been?”

“Work?” Pansy said. “That particular preoccupation is very bourgeois, Potter.”

“Great. And I can’t remember if you like Quidditch.”

“Playing better than following, but I suppose I’d go with the Harpies, yes, they’re having an excellent season, yes, I heard the match on Sunday, yes, Laura Malloy is the best Keeper in the league right now.” Pansy sounded bored. “Don’t bother.”

Harry leaned back in his chair. “You know,” he said, after a minute, “I assume you have at least a few redeeming qualities since Draco likes you, and you admittedly seem to enjoy his company when we’re in the same place, but, and please feel free to take this the wrong way, I don’t get it, because you’re categorically terrible to me almost every single time we interact.” He picked up a piece of bread. “I mean _every_ bloody time, Pansy. You can’t possibly be this fucking awful in every context or he wouldn’t be friends with you.”

Pansy paused with her wine glass halfway to her mouth, looking a little startled. “Did you really just say that, Potter?”

“I dunno,” Harry said. “I thought I’d try calling you on it for a change. You can’t possibly be any worse to me.”

“And it turns out he has teeth,” Pansy said.

“Well?”

“That was fair,” Pansy said, finally. “I might not love new people.”

“You’ve known me since we were eleven. And our best friends have been together for years. I don’t qualify as new.”

“Look,” Pansy said. “I never thought Draco and Hermione were going to last. So I figured it was going to come down to sides, and I didn’t want him to feel any ambiguity about where my loyalties lie. So I kept it clean. I wasn’t wrong.” She picked up her wine glass, then put it back down. “But now I think it could stick, which means my previous plan is apparently no longer tenable. The prospect of trying to get along with you is therefore new.”

“Are you honestly trying to say that you’ve been actively terrible to keep from getting attached to any of us?” Harry said. “That might be one of the worst plans I’ve ever heard.” 

“You’re not a Slytherin, you don’t understand. And you mixed up the two of them. Don’t tell me that went well for you.”

“No, it was awful,” Harry said. “But if I hadn’t, Draco wouldn’t be my partner. Or my friend.” He shrugged. “He’s worth the rest of it. Probably. Except when he forgets dinner and leaves me all the expense reports.”

“I’m trying to say that I’m historically not excellent with people who aren’t Draco. Especially ones who are nice to me with no apparent motivation.”

“My motivation is that we’re going to be sharing Christmas parties for the next several decades,” Harry said. “Also, I’m a nice person.”

“No one’s actually a nice person, they just say that.”

“I am,” Harry said. “I donate to charities and hold the door and everything.”

“I’m aware. But everyone wants something.”

“I get it,” Harry said.

“Do you?”

“I’ve seen the worst of people.” He reached for another piece of bread. “But I do my best to believe that everyone has an upside.” He grinned. “Even you, presumably.”

“I have plenty of upside.” Pansy pulled the basket of bread toward herself. “Including that I’m about to keep you from ruining your dinner.”

“What am I, five?” Harry said, then laughed. “Or do you just want the rest of that for yourself?”

“I didn’t have time for lunch. Someone was stupid enough to deposit cursed coins into a vault without checking them first, so I spent six hours wading through gold.”

“So you do talk about work,” Harry said.

“Occasionally,” Pansy said. “With Draco.”

“I’m just saying,” Harry said, “you could probably have more than one friend. I’m very boring and stable these days, I’m unlikely to go anywhere unless I’m killed on the job by wayward lethifolds. Which, let’s be honest, is probably a possibility, but I do my best.” He grinned again. “Besides, if they end things again, I’m not speaking to either of them for at least a year. I’ll stick with you.”

“Don’t push your luck.” Pansy had started to laugh. “But I suppose I might be willing to upgrade you to an acquaintance.”

“I’ll take it,” Harry said. “But my conditions include refilling my wine glass and sharing the bread.”

“You ate more than half of it,” Pansy pointed out. “This is no longer sharing.”

“Ah, but I have a trick,” Harry said, and waved cheerfully at a waiter, who promptly brought another basket of bread.

“You may have to teach me that spell,” Pansy said, then propped her chin in her hand. “But I don’t get it.”

“Get what?” Harry said.

“You’re not wrong that I’ve been… less than cordial,” she said. “So why on earth are you trying to be friends? You can’t like me.”

“Draco claims you’re the best person he knows. I wouldn’t have gone with you being the worst one I know, given that I deal with criminals for a living, but you’re definitely the most exasperating.” He met her eyes, looking amused. “So let’s say I’m curious about the overwhelming difference of opinion.”

“Did he say that?” Pansy said. “He’s an idiot.”

“He can be,” Harry agreed. “But he can read people like no one I’ve ever met.”

“That’s a terrible reason,” Pansy said, finally.

“I’m also very fond of Slytherin lost causes,” Harry said. “It’s why I put up with Draco.”

Pansy laughed. “He’s only hopeless about Hermione.”

“You think that, but you’ve never seen him fold laundry.”

“You try growing up with house elves.”

“You try growing up in a cupboard,” Harry said, dryly.

“You know,” Pansy said, “I’m starting to think you joke about that just because you enjoy making everyone around you deeply uncomfortable.”

“Guilty. But feeling sorry for me limits the idolatry, really.”

“I’m sure all the fame and fortune is exceedingly challenging,” Pansy said. “You know, with the attractive women throwing themselves at you and the constant offers for free ice cream.”

“You’re joking,” Harry said, voice suddenly a little flat. “It’s awful.”

“I was, actually. Draco says you hate it.” She pushed her empty wine glass toward him. “I can see why.”

“Most people can’t.” Harry refilled it. “They think I’m just being modest or something.”

“Everyone’s been reading about you in the papers for the last three decades,” Pansy said. “They think they know you. And they think you owe them yourself.”

“It’s exhausting. And I hate that it makes it harder to do my job.”

“And harder to trust anyone’s motives,” Pansy said, considering him.

“That’s probably why,” Harry said, finally. “I mean – why I’m trying to be friends.” He laughed, sounding a little more bitter than she’d ever heard him. “I think I’m not too worried you want anything. You don’t actually like me.”

“You can't just go around deciding the only people you trust are the ones who don’t want anything to do with you,” Pansy said, dryly. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“I’ve had worse ones.” He leaned back when their waiter appeared with their food. “And it worked out with Draco.”

“Draco’s an anomaly." Pansy reached for her fork. “You should quit subconsciously sabotaging yourself.”

“I’ll get right on that.”

“If you’re going to make yourself miserable, you might as well try this,” Pansy said. “I can at least ruin your evening with vegetables instead of cutting remarks.”

“Oh, right,” Harry said. “You’re one of those people who poaches from other people’s plates. Or at least, you do it to Draco.”

“Friendship with me is voluntarily giving up at least a quarter of your meal,” Pansy agreed. “It’s smart to steal some in return.”

“This seems deeply unfair. You ordered something I hate.”

“You haven’t actually tried it,” Pansy pointed out.

“I might regret this whole offer of friendship thing,” Harry said. “Draco doesn’t make me eat aubergine.”

“Well,” he said, half an hour later. “This wasn’t a complete disaster.”

“Not entirely,” Pansy agreed. “Even if you did steal half my dinner.”

“You started that. It’s completely your fault.”

“I’m going to consider it a moral victory,” Pansy said, thoughtfully. “Since I was right and you were wrong.”

“We could do this again sometime,” Harry said. “Like Friday. I’m free.”

“I thought Hermione had meetings in Scotland. Isn’t Draco going along?”

“Who said anything about inviting them?” Harry said, looking a little amused.

“I thought you wanted me to make nice with the Gryffindors. I assume that also applies to Hermione.”

“Sure. But it kind of defeats the point if it’s not just the two of us. We’re not going to get very far if you’re hiding behind Draco.”

“I really can’t,” Pansy said, finally. “I can… be nicer if it’s all of us. I’ll even talk about work. But you’d be a dangerous person for me to make friends with.”

“I was really joking about the lethifolds,” Harry said, looking a little confused.

Pansy took a breath, looking away. “It’s more, you know. A self-preservation kind of thing.”

“Really. No one’s nearly gotten murdered by association in well over a decade.”

“Please don’t make me spell this out,” Pansy said, quietly.

“I’m really awful at subtext. You might have to give me a little more to work with.”

“People like you don’t fit very well with people like me,” Pansy said. “And I know it. You’re decent and kind, and I don’t hate it, but I’m not. So please don’t put me in a position to want something I’m never going to be able to have.”

“Oh,” Harry said, then considered her. “Really?”

“Yes,” Pansy said, softly. “So I won’t be awful, but don’t ask me to be friends.”

“You know that thing where everyone thinks they know me?” Harry said. “You seem to have walked into it.”

“I’ve known you for years. You’re an open book.”

“The thing is,” Harry said, “Draco was horrible to me for a really long time. And it took me forever to realize that he wasn’t awful, but he thought being cruel was easier than showing anyone who he really was. Because if he was terrible and no one liked him, they had a decent excuse.”

“He’s not very good about that. I only got through because we’ve known each other since before we could walk.”

“When we got partnered, I wanted to kill him half the time. Okay, way more than half the time. But I finally realized that if he’d actually hated me as much as he’d seemed to, he wouldn’t have had my back. And he did. Always.” He laughed. “It was one thing in the field, but he used to cover for me when I didn’t finish paperwork.”

“He wanted to be friends with you when we were eleven. He just had no idea how. And then you wouldn’t.”

“He thought he wasn’t good enough.” Harry looked thoughtful. “And I had to punch him at least twice before he figured out that I was only mad because he wouldn’t trust me enough to ask for something better.”

“If you’re trying to draw some sort of parallel, don’t bother,” Pansy said. “It’s different. And I’m significantly less nice than Draco is, underneath.”

“I’m starting to think the trust issues might be a Slytherin thing,” Harry said, dryly. “Something in the dungeons, maybe. They ought to have them checked for curses.”

“Very funny.”

“Do you think you can avoid being awful to me for an entire evening?”

“I said I’d try.”

“Great,” Harry said. “Want to go out with me sometime?”

“Don’t,” Pansy said, softly. “Please.”

“I’m asking as me. Not the overwhelmingly noble persona that everyone writes news articles about and puts on a pedestal.”

“I don’t think about that part. That’s not the person I’m afraid of getting in over my head with.”

Harry smiled. “You know, I’ve somehow put up with Draco for this long. I can probably handle you.”

“You aren’t proposing taking Draco out for dinner,” Pansy protested.

“Nah,” Harry said. “I just live with him and spend basically every waking moment in his company. That’s a much lower level of commitment, really.”

“Are you even interested? Because half an hour ago –“

“When I said you were terrible to me every single time we interacted, I neglected to mention that you flirt when you’re very drunk,” Harry said, looking amused. “You’ve made suggestions I don’t hate. Dinner is definitely a prerequisite to those, though.”

“Were you planning on telling me that?” Pansy said. “I don’t know, ever?”

“I mean, I assumed you were just fucking with me,” Harry said, with a grin. “But now I’m starting to suspect otherwise. So if you’re asking me if I’ve ever thought about it…”

Pansy glanced toward the door. “We could just…” she said, slowly. “I’m fine with that.”

“I like how you think friendship is a terrible idea, but casual sex is fine,” Harry said, dryly.

“It’s less complicated.”

“I’m also completely uninterested in it,” Harry said. “So I’m going to go pay the bill, and then you’re going to thank me for dinner, and then I think you should say yes to Friday at eight. I’ll even pick you up.”

“You’re sure?”

“You might not have noticed,” Harry said, “but I tend to go for what I want.”

“Gryffindor,” Pansy said, dryly.

“It’ll be a change of pace. We’re a little more straightforward.”

“I can’t do Friday. I’m on call in case anything goes horrifically wrong in one of the vaults.” She took a breath. “But I could do Saturday.”

“You might have to tell me about curse-breaking at the bank. I assumed it was a lot of sitting around, but I appear to have been wrong.”

“I don’t do boring.”

Harry stood up. “Saturday at eight. Your place or the bank?”

“My house,” Pansy said. “I’ll be home by then.”

“I’ll see you,” Harry said, with a smile.

“Thank you,” Pansy said. “You know, for the sauce that was utterly ruined by vegetables. And the bread that you failed to share.”

“You’re really lucky I don’t do boring either,” Harry said, laughing.

-

“Hi,” Harry said, when she opened the door on Saturday.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you brought flowers. You’re overdoing it, Potter.”

“You like it,” he said, grinning, and passed them over. “We’ve got five minutes, you could stick them in water.”

“Your owl said jeans,” Pansy said. “Please tell me you’re not trying to combine casual dining and reservations, because that’s not enough time to change.”

“We don’t have reservations,” Harry said, amused. “And you get increasingly insulting when you’re nervous, have you noticed?”

“I’m not nervous.” She held open the door. “You’re not worth getting nervous over.”

“Increasingly insulting,” Harry repeated, going around her. “You promised to be nice to me for an entire night.”

“I said I’d try,” Pansy said. “It’s already proving challenging.”

Harry went toward the kitchen. “Flowers, water, nicer. Not in that order.”

“I don’t hate your shirt. Happy?”

“I heard you like the Harpies.” He went to take a vase out of one of her cabinets. “So I was nice enough to dig this out of the back of my closet. It was sort of buried in Magpies ones, since, you know, they’re the infinitely superior team, but I made an effort. Just for you.”

“I have that one, actually,” Pansy said. “But no Magpies anything, since they’re awful.”

“Damn, we could have matched,” Harry said, laughing. “And they’re number one in the league, that’s not very accurate.”

“Because Williamson is a sneaky cheat,” Pansy said, filling the vase and setting the flowers on the counter with an anti-fade charm.

“I think you mean resourceful,” Harry said, then pulled a coin out of his pocket. “Hey, catch.”

“I realize I work in a bank, but I don’t collect sickles.”

“It’s a portkey,” Harry said.

“I thought we were going to dinner.”

“There’s food on the other side of it, don’t worry,” he said. “But I didn’t want to bore you.”

“You can’t just –“ Pansy started.

“You’ve got about ten seconds,” Harry said, glancing at his watch.

“Shouldn’t you be touching it too?”

“I hate portkeys, I’m Apparating,” Harry said. “I’ll see you there.”

Pansy managed to catch herself on the other side, and Harry appeared a minute later.

“If you’ve brought me to a dark field in the middle of nowhere to kill me, I’m not going to be very impressed,” she said.

Harry looked at her for a minute, then reached to take her wrist. “I’m about to do something really inadvisable.” 

“Like homicide?”

He pulled her in carefully, then wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Like getting this out of the way,” he murmured, then slid a hand into her hair, tilting her face up.

“What are you –“ Pansy said.

He closed the space between them until he was so close she could feel his breath. “Feel free to tell me if you hate it,” he said, then kissed her.

“Oh,” Pansy said, very softly, a minute later.

“I want to be here because I think I could really like you,” he said, quietly. “But you have to let me.”

“I’m not great at this.”

“I hate letting people in too,” Harry said. “But I’m going to assume you aren’t going to sell photos of me to the Prophet, and you’re going to assume that my interest is genuine, and then we’ll go from there.”

“Too late. I’m taking a picture of you in that shirt and giving it to the Harpies’ publicity team in exchange for season tickets.”

He was still keeping her close. “I guess it counts as a charitable effort, since there’s no other way anyone will show up to their games.”

Pansy looked up at him. “Okay. I’ll give it a fair chance.”

“Hah,” Harry said, looking pleased with himself. He took a step back. “I really didn’t think that was going to work.”

“It’s possible that it wasn’t the worst idea to save me from two hours of worrying about that,” Pansy admitted.

“It was really a hardship,” Harry said, grinning. “Just so you know.”

“If you turn out to be insufferable, I’m going to be very disappointed.”

“You definitely should have thought of that before you said you were interested. It’s too late now.”

“It’s also possible that I should have considered your taste in dating locations. Why are we in a field?”

“We can’t fuck around with Quidditch in London,” Harry said. “Draco says you play pick up on weekends.”

“I’m a chaser,” Pansy said, dryly. “This field has a distinct lack of hoops.”

Harry lead her over a hill and toward a tree. “He says you fill in as seeker if they’re really desperate.”

“That’s if about six people are out. I don’t think there’s any overstating how awful I am.”

“Hmm,” Harry said. “So is this you telling me that you don’t want to try out the Starsweeper prototype? I could take them home.”

“Yes, absolutely.” Pansy rolled her eyes. “Take home the broomstick that isn’t even out of production and that no one has seen.”

“Catch,” Harry said, tossing a broomstick at her. “Now you’ve seen one.”

“Seriously?” The moonlight was bright enough to see by, but she conjured a light.

“You’re not wrong that it’s not out of production. But they threw a bunch of them at Puddlemere for testing, Oliver wanted to see what I thought. I talked him into letting me borrow two.”

“I take it all back. I’m absolutely in this for the fact that you’re famous enough to get special treatment and racing brooms.”

“That’s less my reputation and more Gryffindor Quidditch solidarity,” Harry said, dryly.

“Shh,” Pansy said. “Go home so I can appreciate it properly.”

“I’d make a deeply inappropriate broomstick joke, but you’d probably hold it against me.”

“If you’re very nice, I could probably be persuaded let you watch.”

“This whole thing really isn’t going to end well for me, is it?” Harry mused.

“Definitely not,” Pansy said, hopping onto the broomstick.

“I also have a one of their new snitches. It goes invisible every once in a while. Or silent. Or both.”

“Not happening. You’re already going to wipe the floor with me.” She kicked off the ground. “In fact, it’s so hopeless that I’m just going to fly around while you hunt your invisible snitch.”

“It banks like a dream, but don’t try to stop too fast, it bucks a little,” Harry said, amused. “I assume they’ll iron that out at some point.”

“Noted. You’d probably notice if I stole it and flew back toward London, wouldn’t you?”

Harry looked amused. “Probably. There’s also the problem of you having no idea where we are.”

“Damn.”

“And anyway, I have a plan,” Harry said, pulling a strip of fabric out of his pocket. He slid onto the broom, holding it up. “Blindfold.”

“I’m not saying I’m opposed, but that’s a risky offer for a first date, Potter.”

“Hah,” Harry said. “If I can’t see, it’s probably about even.”

“No. Absolutely not. You’re going to fall off and die and Draco will never forgive me.”

“One, he and I do this all the time,” Harry said, then laughed. “Two, I’m going to trust you to catch me if I fall.”

“That’s a terrible idea. I hate you, remember?”

“Do you?” Harry said, grinning up at her. “Because I’m starting to have doubts.”

“If you beat me even with that on –“ Pansy took a breath. “I get to pick where we go next weekend.”

Harry tied on the blindfold before he flew up beside her. “You can’t bet against yourself. Then you’ll cheat and lose.”

“You severely underestimate my competitive streak,” Pansy said, dryly.

“Okay,” Harry said, thoughtfully. “You win, you come over for dinner.”

“Deal. But you have to make at least one vegetable.”

Harry held up the snitch. “A vegetable which is definitely not going to be aubergine. Ready?”

An hour later, she’d gotten the snitch once, but Harry had somehow managed to snag it three other times.

“I’m starting to think this is rigged,” Pansy said, dryly, when he closed a loop to hover beside her. “Your snitch likes you better.”

“Yes, absolutely, I don’t want you to come over at all,” Harry said, straight-faced, then reached toward her face.

“We are not snogging this high on different broomsticks, don’t even think about it.”

“You’re very inventive, I like it,” Harry said, then grabbed the snitch from somewhere over her shoulder, pulling off his blindfold.

Pansy made a face. “That was deeply unfair. But I don’t want a rematch, you’ll beat me at that too.”

“It’s not my fault I’m better,” Harry said, then angled in closer. “Although if you come over here, I’m happy to demonstrate the benefits of being very, very good at Quidditch.”

“I categorically refuse to do anything with anyone who obviously cheats and wins four to one,” Pansy said. “But for the record, I’m definitely better than you with broomsticks.”

Harry looked windswept and happy. “I absolutely just outflew you.”

“Who said anything about flying?” Pansy said, laughing, and dove.

Later, after they’d finished Harry’s picnic, he spread out a blanket.

“Hmm, stargazing,” Pansy said, stretching out so she could see the sky. “Points for cliché.”

Harry laid down beside her. “Meteors, actually. Points for originality.”

Half an hour later, Pansy looked over at him. “I should probably tell you, I don’t entirely hate this.”

“Hmm,” Harry said, looking amused. “That’s high praise from you.”

“I might like it,” she said, taking a breath. “It’s possible it’s the best first date I’ve had.”

“You’re only saying that because I found you a very fancy broomstick,” Harry said, but he’d rolled onto his side to look at her.

“For someone who claims to want me to be nice, you’re very ungrateful.”

“Hah,” Harry said. “Is this you at your nicest? We may need to work on that.”

“No,” Pansy said, meeting his eyes. “But if I wanted to let you in, could you promise not to absolutely destroy me?”

“I’m willing to do that,” Harry said, with a smile. “But you could also just trust me. I don’t make a habit out of hurting people.”

“I know,” Pansy said, softly. “I like that about you. But I’m not as nice.”

“You don’t have to be different,” Harry said. “I like you as is.” He grinned. “Well, as long as you’re not being actively combative.”

Pansy laughed. “I can try to do a little less of that.”

“I mean it, though,” Harry said. “You’re a little sharp. But don’t think you have to make yourself smaller to fit with me. I like the edges.”

“Damn,” Pansy said. “Now I’m absolutely going to have to sleep with you.”

“I say all the right things,” Harry agreed. He propped himself on one elbow, reaching to run his fingers through her hair. “But I mean that.”

“I believe you,” Pansy said. “Mostly because you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met, I’d know.”

“Definitely never entrust me with any planning for surprise birthday parties,” Harry agreed, amused.

“I like you too. I might have liked you for a little longer than I’m willing to admit at the moment.”

Harry laughed. “I’m starting to wonder if Slytherins have a little bit of a thing for good people. You know, flip the stereotype. Although I do own a motorbike.”

“It’s very depressing,” Pansy said. “I’m starting to think I get off on how nice you are.”

“You know,” Harry said, stroking a hand down her side. “This whole secret crush thing is fairly charming.”

“I do not have a –“ Pansy said, then shivered when he moved his fingers beneath her shirt, brushing a thumb over her hip.

“You were saying?”

“If I admit it,” Pansy said, “will you come over here?”

“Maybe.” Harry settled in against her side. He slid his hand up further. “I’m not sure how much closer I can get.”

“I have some suggestions. I’m very willing to demonstrate the mechanics if you’re unsure of how it works.”

“Trust me,” Harry said, with a laugh that was a little lower than usual. “I know exactly how it works.”

“It’s possible I’m about to be in serious trouble.”

“Well, only one way to find out,” Harry said.

He lifted his hand to cup her face, then rolled over to kiss her.

Pansy had completely lost track of time when he finally pulled away, breathing hard.

“I need a minute,” he said, starting to sit up. “Or… five.”

“You really don’t,” Pansy said. “In an entirely unexpected turn of events, I’m thinking about offering to take all my clothes off. In a field. So you can do indecent things to me on a picnic blanket.” She considered. “No, I’m definitely offering, although you should be aware that I strongly suspect you might have me under Imperius.”

Harry snorted. “That’s definitely all you.”

“I was kidding,” Pansy said. “I’m willing to take my clothes off in a field because I want you. Happy?”

She grabbed the hem of her shirt, starting to pull it over her head, but Harry reached to grab her wrist.

“I have a lot of will power,” he said. “But definitely not that much will power. And I…”

Pansy grinned. “I promise to still respect you in the morning, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve… dated anyone,” Harry said. He took a breath. “I need a little time. And I don’t want you to think I’m just in this for sex. Is that okay?”

Pansy leaned against his side, then elbowed him. “Please tell me you’re not actually nervous about telling me you’d like to take it slow.”

Harry laughed. “Maybe. I want you to keep liking the date.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Pansy said, fisting a hand in his shirt to pull him closer for another kiss. “I was thinking of turning over a new leaf and not putting out until the third date, anyway. What are your thoughts?”

“Maybe make it the fourth,” Harry murmured, against her mouth.

“Can I count the Italian place?”

“Nope,” Harry said, but he kissed her again.

“Can I propose getting brunch and counting it as two separate dates? It’s basically two meals.”

“Also no,” Harry said, amused. “But it’s nice to know you’d like a loophole.”

“Okay,” Pansy said. “But that means you’re going to have to get dinner with me Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.”

Harry snorted. “I think Draco might notice if I leave early three days in a row.”

“Would that be a problem?” Pansy said, drawing back a little.

“This has been basically the opposite of a train wreck,” Harry said, leaning closer. “Which, admittedly, was slightly unexpected, but I’m going with it.”

“But you don’t want to tell him.”

“Not yet,” Harry said. “But it’s not because it’s you, I wouldn’t say anything no matter who it was. He cares a little too much about me being happy. I don’t want him to worry if we decide to call it.”

“He can handle it,” Pansy said. “Probably.”

“Yes, but then he’s going to worry about both of us.”

“Three dates, and you’re the one who tells him.”

“Five,” Harry said. “Just in case you really hate the sex.”

“I won’t,” Pansy said. “But it’s good to know you’re not utterly self-assured about absolutely everything.”

“Not about a lot of things, really.”

“If you get overly nervous,” Pansy said, archly, “feel free to remember that I offered to let you fuck me in the middle of a field. That speaks volumes about my degree of interest.”

“I’ll get over it,” Harry said, sounding a little amused. “It’s just the whole thing where I spend a stupid amount of time worrying whether someone actually wants to sleep with, you know, me. And sometimes people have… unreasonable expectations.”

Pansy reached out to stroke her fingers through his hair. “I like you because you have terrible taste in jumpers. And because you laugh at every single one of Draco’s bad jokes, and you cover me with a blanket every time you find me asleep on a couch at a party, even when I’m being… less than nice to you.”

“You always wear very revealing cocktail dresses,” Harry said, mildly. “I have concerns that one day you’ll die of hypothermia.”

“I’m just saying,” Pansy said, “I like you for exceedingly stupid reasons, but I promise that none of them are what you did during the war, Harry.”

“I don’t hear that very often,” Harry said, quietly.

“I can say it until you believe me.” She stroked her thumb against the back of his neck. “And you have four dates to figure out that I definitely don’t care if you’re perfect in bed. Please don’t be, actually, I’m definitely not. You know how much I hate being shown up.”

Harry let his head fall against her shoulder for a moment. “I could like you a lot. I might actually already like you a lot.”

“I have very low expectations,” Pansy said. “You’re so famous that you’ve probably never had to work for it. But don’t worry, I’m sure I can reform you.”

Harry started to laugh. “I can assure you that I’ve never used being famous as an excuse to slack off in bed.”

Pansy shifted so she could kiss him again, slow and warm. “We can wait as long as you want. And I don’t care if it’s not spectacular. Although…”

“Although?” Harry said, when he’d finished kissing her back.

“It’s a shame I’m refusing to get naked. Otherwise you could tell exactly how turned on I am.”

“In a field, no less.” Harry grinned. “Imagine how you’ll feel if there’s a bed involved.”

“You say these things with absolutely no consideration about what they’re going to do to me.”

“I considered it. I just liked the outcome.”

“Yes, but I’m getting the last word,” Pansy said. “Because when you go to bed tonight, you’re going to be thinking about what I’m doing in _my_ bed. All the way across town.”

“Damn,” Harry said, swallowing. “I definitely just lost that round.”

“Or won it, depending on how you look at things.”

“Speaking of bed,” Harry said. “It’s getting late. I should get you home.” He laughed. “I’m hoping you don’t absolutely hate long distance Apparition with another person, since the return portkey went off, oh, I don’t know –“ He glanced down at his watch. “Two hours ago.”

“Plan worse dates,” Pansy said. “Then these things won’t happen.”

Harry climbed to his feet, holding out a hand to pull her up. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“Or, you know, on second thought, don’t. I kind of liked it.”

“I kind of like you,” Harry said, grinning. “But only because you offered to put out in the middle of a field.”

“I did,” Pansy said. “I’ll put out anywhere you want.” She took a step closer, until she’d pressed up against him. “But not until the fourth date.”

“You have to stop, or we’re never getting home,” Harry said, but he kissed her.

“I’m multi-tasking, don’t worry.” Pansy waved her wand at the picnic blankets and basket, which began picking themselves up. “I’m willing to carry this if you get the broomsticks.”

“Or I could stuff everything in here,” Harry said, amused, and held up a bag. “Christmas present from Hermione. I’ve literally fit an entire Quidditch equipment set in it.”

Pansy handed over the picnic basket. “Show off.”

“Only when I’m trying to impress women.”

“It’s definitely not working,” Pansy said, summoning the brooms to give to him. “In the slightest.”

Harry wrapped an arm around her waist after he’d finished stuffing everything into his bag. “Hang on.”

“I will be deeply unhappy if you splinch us, for the record.”

“I won’t,” Harry said, a moment later, when they’d landed on her doorstep.

Pansy laughed, then wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a much longer kiss. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” she murmured, when they finally broke apart.

“I want to,” Harry said, with a smile. “But you might have to be patient.”

“I’ll owl you about next weekend.” Pansy glanced up at him. “I mean, as long as you want to –“

“And Draco claims you’re smart,” Harry said, sounding amused.

“I’m going inside now. You ruin everything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said, and kissed her one last time.

-

Pansy was leaning against one of the columns when Harry came around the corner and started up the stairs.

“Finally. I was starting to think you’d stood me up.”

Harry sounded breathless. “Sorry. There was a bit of a… situation.”

“Is that code for something?”

“Not really,” Harry said. “I was stupid enough to stop by the office trying to find a file, and then I got ambushed by the distraught mother of someone I arrested last week.” He made a face. “Of course he was completely innocent and had obviously been framed.”

Pansy snorted. “I’m guessing not.”

“Running a drug smuggling ring. So not so much, no.”

He stepped forward, leaning in closer, and stopped when his mouth was close to hers.

“Hi,” he said, smiling.

“Is this becoming a thing with you? Kissing me at the beginning of dates instead of the end?”

Harry grinned. “Who said anything about kissing? I’m just saying hello.”

“You’re insufferable and overly smug,” Pansy said, winding her arms around his neck. “But I’m willing to let you kiss me.”

“That’s nice,” Harry said. “Except I wasn’t planning on it.”

She arched against him. “Weren’t you?”

“Nope.” Harry braced himself against the column with one hand, leaning into her.

“Damn it, Potter,” Pansy murmured, finally giving in and bringing her mouth down on his.

Harry pulled away a few minutes later, laughing. “I’ve been thinking about doing that all week. But should probably stop snogging on the steps of the British Museum. I’m sure it’s against the rules.”

“Since when do you follow those?” Pansy said, but she untangled herself from him.

“So what’s the plan?”

“To go inside?” Pansy said. “I realize that’s a little too complicated for you, but I did suggest that we meet here.”

“Really?” Harry said, looking startled. “Here?”

“You said anything I wanted,” Pansy said, taking a step back. “I asked. That includes muggle things. And no one’s going to notice you at the museum.”

“You’re going to have to give me a little room to occasionally be surprised by you,” Harry said, dryly. “Given that you’ve spent the past few years pretending to hate everything, including me.”

“I wasn’t pretending to hate you. Just that you were boring and beneath me.”

Harry laughed. “I’m definitely boring and you’re definitely out of my league, but I feel like that wasn’t the extent of it.”

“I’m sorry I – you know,” Pansy said, taking a breath. “In case I didn’t say it. I was trying to keep my distance, but I went further than I should have. So I’m sorry.”

“Given the whole second date thing, you can probably assume I’m over it,” Harry said. “But thanks for saying that.”

“I like it here. Muggles don’t know anything about curses, apparently, so they put everything out in these glass display cases. The Russian jewelry section is worse than anything I’ve ever seen at work.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said, reaching for her hand. “Show me everything.”

A few hours later, Pansy leaned over a display case.

“I know I said that necklace was my favorite, but this wasn’t here last time.” She glanced around casually, then tapped her wand on the glass. The jewelry inside lit up. “Because putting a delayed exsanguination hex on a hair pin is, quite frankly, the sort of artifice I can get behind.”

“You’re a little terrifying,” Harry said, mildly.

“I resent the qualifier. I prefer to think of myself as extremely terrifying.” She stood up. “Besides, it’s art. Everyone can admire art.”

“I’m not really sure I’d call lethal jewelry art,” Harry said, amused.

“You liked the swords, and those definitely killed more people than my hair pin.” She glanced back at it. “The spell was never triggered. You’re maligning a perfectly innocent accessory.”

“I think I liked the pottery,” Harry mused. “I have yet to see a cursed vase.”

“Dinnerware is usually fairly safe.” Pansy considered, then pointed toward a staircase. “But I know a poisoned tea service that could prove you wrong, it’s up there.”

Harry started to laugh. “Hey,” he murmured, catching her wrist before she could step away. He pulled her in a little. “This is fun.”

“But?”

“That’s it.” He brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “You haven’t insulted me in two hours. And your professional knowledge of horrifying magic is sort of…”

“Problematic given your role as a bastion of all that is good and just?” Pansy suggested.

“I was going to say hot,” Harry said, dryly.

“Sorry.” Pansy looked at the stairs, not meeting his eyes. “It turns out I might… care if you like me after all.”

“Well,” Harry said, tilting her face up so he could look at her, “I think you should quit worrying about that and let me teach you about extremely boring plates with absolutely no curses on them at dinner next weekend. I’ll even find a real restaurant.”

“I’m in,” Pansy said, letting out a breath. “But only if it’s steak.”

Harry laughed. “What happened to being overly invested in vegetables?”

“I have hidden depths.”

“I think I like them,” Harry murmured, finally closing the distance between them to kiss her.

-  
“I’m starting to think you’re never on time for anything,” Pansy said, amused, when Harry finally joined her outside the restaurant.

“Sorry,” he said, sounding breathless. “Work. Fighting crime. You know, the usual.”

“I thought you had the night off.”

“Everything ran over,” Harry said, ruefully. “And it took me half an hour to get rid of Draco. I had to change in a supply closet. It was all very trying.”

Pansy laughed. “And I’m guessing you didn’t tell him we were getting dinner.”

“Oh, but I did.” Harry grinned. “You needed a consult on a cursed Russian necklace. I was nice enough to volunteer despite how awful you were inevitably going to be, since I know how Draco feels about cursed jewelry.” He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her in. “I think he’s voluntarily doing purchasing orders as we speak in an attempt to make it up to me.”

Pansy leaned in. “I should probably be at least a little awful. You know, to make up for the fact that you’re taking advantage of Draco’s guilty conscience.”

“Probably,” Harry said, glancing down. “You look nice. That dress is very...”

“Low cut?” Pansy supplied.

Harry’s cheeks went faintly pink. “I was about to say purple.”

“I’m glad you came up with something to tell Draco that actually involved getting dinner with me,” Pansy said, dryly. “You really can’t lie.”

“We’ve established this.” Harry laughed. “But I do like the dress.”

“You’d better, you’re the one who proposed the fancy restaurant.”

“I thought we ought to go on at least one reasonably traditional date,” Harry said, dryly. “And you like this place.”

“You and Draco might have sold me on muggle restaurants.” She looked up at him with a grin. “Although this means you’re paying, I haven’t the faintest idea how muggle money works.”

“I’d believe you,” Harry said, “except you work at a bank with an exchange office -”

“Not my department.”

“...and you paid for the museum tickets with a credit card,” he finished.

Pansy laughed. “I hate it when you pay attention.”

“Come on,” Harry said, smiling. “I can pay attention to you over steak and alcohol.”

“Not to change the subject,” Pansy said, later in the evening, “but your watch is sort of… glowing.”

Harry glanced at it. “Damn, that’s Draco.” The watch started making a soft chime. “And Hermione.”

“Something’s happening at work?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Hermione came up with it, it’s easier than owls. But we don’t use it unless it’s something serious. And it’s both of them.”

“I’m assuming this means dinner’s about to be cut short.”

“I should probably –“ Harry stopped, looking a little anxious. “I could stay and finish this, I guess.”

“Don’t be stupid. I’ll get the check when I’m done eating.”

“I don’t –“ Harry said, looking at his watch again. “I don’t want you to think this isn’t important.”

“I’m about to get two desserts,” Pansy said, a little amused. “I’m definitely not upset. If I pretend to be distraught that you left, I might even be able to convince the waiter to give me a third one.”

“It’s not that work comes first. It’s just – I mean, Hermione wouldn’t ask if it weren’t –“

“ _Harry_ ,” Pansy interrupted. “With you, work is going to come first. And I know it.” She smiled. “I can’t tell you how many times Draco has disappeared halfway through a meal.”

“It’s not like that, exactly.”

“It’s absolutely like that,” Pansy said. “But I don’t actually mind. Draco’s never failed to show up when something actually matters to me. Finishing dinner doesn’t actually matter.” She laughed. “Well, aside from the three desserts. That’s critical.”

“It’s never been that easy for anyone else,” Harry said, quietly.

“I’m not anyone else,” Pansy pointed out. 

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“There’s nothing to make up,” Pansy said. “Quit feeling guilty. Go deal with criminals.” She picked up her fork, then considered. “Although I still get to count this as an entire date.”

“I think I can live with that,” Harry said. “Thanks for… not minding.”

“Tell Draco to let me know that everyone’s alive later. And feel free to heavily imply that I threw a fit about you leaving halfway through an appointment.”

“I’ll just owl you myself,” Harry said, with a smile. “But I’ll try to convey that you were awful, as per usual.”

“Excellent,” Pansy said. “I’ll just be here enjoying your cake.”

-

“Hi,” Pansy said, breathlessly, when Harry opened the door. “Please tell me Draco isn’t home, I’m not going to be happy if I have to go home again and the ice cream melts on the way. I’m terrible at chilling charms. And your wards are ridiculous, I had to carry the groceries up.”

Harry laughed, pulling open the door. “Stuck in France until tomorrow morning,” he said. “And I told Hermione to leave me alone so I could finalize case reports. I can take those, by the way.”

“Did she buy that?” Pansy handed over the grocery bag. “I think we should probably avoid coming up with any plans that involve you lying about your whereabouts.”

“Not in the slightest. But she thinks I’m dodging work related paperwork to listen to the Puddlemere United match, so it worked out.”

“Using your complete inability to lie as a cover,” Pansy said, thoughtfully. “That’s nearly Slytherin.”

“I was proud of myself,” Harry agreed, putting the bag on the counter before he turned around. “You look…”

“You can’t owl me at six asking me to come over after work and expect perfection. You’re lucky my jeans aren’t covered in vault dust.”

Harry came over, leaning down for a kiss. “I was going to say beautiful.”

“Oh,” Pansy said.

“You’re cute when you blush.”

“If you call me cute again, I will end you,” Pansy informed him. “I know a great deal of dark magic.”

“Maybe don’t admit that to me,” Harry said, amused. “I’d hate to have to arrest you.”

“Dark magic that I use at my perfectly above-board job. Although you’re welcome to use binding spells on me any time you like.”

“Have we discussed the fact that you’re trouble?” Harry murmured.

“Now who’s cute when they blush?”

“Dinner’s almost done,” Harry said. “Thanks for getting the bread.”

“Thank you for feeding me.” Pansy summoned two wine glasses out of the cupboard. “I brought wine. And some sort of pie. The person at the bakery down the street claimed it was good.”

“Everything there is good,” Harry said, coming over. “How was work?”

“Long.” Pansy poured him a glass. “I had to fire someone. She cried for an hour.”

“Ouch,” Harry said, then wrapped an arm around her waist. “But I’m happy to see you.”

“My evening was about to be a bottle of vodka and Serpentine Solitaire. I suppose this could be considered a step up.”

“That might be a low bar.”

“I don’t know, I really like vodka,” Pansy said, thoughtfully. “On the other hand, that does smell amazing.”

“Ratatouille,” Harry said, pulling her in. “Just so we’re clear, this vegetables-in-sauce thing isn’t going to last forever.”

“I see how it is,” Pansy said, with a grin. “You’re just trying to get me naked.”

“More like trying to make up for bailing on dinner.”

“As you can see, I’m outraged.” Pansy wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m never going to forgive you.”

“Very funny. I just wanted to… be sure you were okay with it.”

“You can ask Draco if I’ve ever cared. I’m not secretly unhappy about it and harboring a grudge.”

“No one likes being second place to work. And if I’m honest, being an Auror and working with Draco are big enough pieces of who I am that I don’t think I could stop either of them, even if I wanted to.”

“It’s a fourth date,” Pansy said, a little amused. “I’m not sure we have to figure this one out right now.”

“It’s a fourth date on top of knowing each other for twenty years,” Harry said, dryly. “The rules are a little different. And I don’t think I can change that. So I need to know if you mind.”

“If you’re asking if I’m threatened by your excessive work ethic and weird obsession with civic duty, the answer is no.” Pansy stroked his hair out of his face. “If you’re asking if I’m suddenly going to care a month from now, the answer is also no. I mean… assuming you want to keep doing this, it’s only been three weeks.”

“It was a… thing,” Harry said. “With Hermione and Draco. Or it used to be, anyway. I mean, not that we’re…”

“Married?” Pansy said, amused.

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“One, I won’t resent your friendship with Draco if you don’t resent mine. Two, I’m not Hermione.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” Pansy said, a little amused. “Because I don’t think you’ve figured out that I’m happy on my own in a way that she isn’t.”

“She’s pretty self-sufficient.”

“Hermione is the sort of person who wants to build a life around someone,” Pansy said, finally. “Draco’s like that too. I’d rather build my own life and have someone to share it with. So I don’t mind if you fuck off to Bulgaria in pursuit of international criminals for a week or go to work at four in the morning even if I’m staying over.” She considered him for a moment. “But if you hate that I’m independent, you’d better call it now.”

“I don’t. I’m not very…” He laughed, softly. “They’ve been together for a long time. Long enough to have grown up together. They’re used to someone else being there. I mean – romantically. I’m not. It’s possible I’m going to be completely terrible at it.”

“Have you met me? I’m definitely going to be completely terrible at it.”

“Maybe we can cancel each other out,” Harry said, tugging her a little closer. “But I’d much rather have someone who wants me than needs me.”

“I’m in favor of being terrible together. But I’ll be much more in favor if food and another glass of wine are involved.”

Harry grinned. “I can also offer a movie, the world’s most inappropriate chess set, or cards.”

“Is that the one with the centaurs as knights?” Pansy said, thoughtfully. “Draco won’t let me play with it. He claims it’ll offend my delicate sensibilities and ruin my innocence forever.”

“Well, Draco isn’t home.” Harry laughed. “And it seems a little late on both counts, really.”

“A lot late, really. I’m definitely all in on vegetables and pornographic chess.”

“Your date standards seem to be falling dramatically,” Harry said, still laughing.

“Are they?” She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, nudging her nose against his. “Because I have it on good authority I might be willing to put out later.”

“I think I did say something about the fourth date,” Harry said, sounding a little rueful. “But I’m not sure I’m…”

“There yet?” Pansy said, leaning around him to summon the wine bottle. “Not a problem.” She grinned. “But you can’t blame me for trying.”

Harry laughed. “I can at least compensate with extremely naked and very friendly sirens.”

“Let’s go educate me so I can scandalize Draco,” Pansy suggested.

An hour later, Harry pulled back to look at her, breathing hard.

“Sorry, I need to…” he murmured.

“Cool off?” Pansy said, sliding her hands back out from under his shirt. “Sure.”

Harry sat up, running a hand through his hair. 

Pansy stretched out on the couch, then nudged him with her foot, laughing. “That’s absolutely a lost cause. Although on the bright side, the permanent sex hair means that no one will ever figure out we’ve been snogging on your couch.”

“You’re being really…” Harry looked over at her. He let out a breath.

Pansy reached underneath herself, pulling out a chess piece, then tossed it vaguely in the direction of the board that they’d definitely knocked over at some point. “Really what?”

“Nice,” Harry said, finally. “Patient. Understanding.”

“I’m frequently nice. You’re just not used to it.”

“I’m working on it,” Harry said. He didn’t look particularly happy.

Pansy sat up. “You’re really overthinking this.”

“Probably. But it’s been a couple years, and I like you, and –“

“Really, really overthinking it,” Pansy said, a little amused, then stood up and pulled her shirt over her head.

“What are you doing?” Harry said.

“If I thought waiting ten dates would make you feel better about it, I’d do that.” Pansy undid her jeans and pushed them off. “But you’re just nervous. So I’m going to go investigate your bedroom. I bet everything is red and gold and hideous, your sheets probably have tiny lions on them.”

“Snitches,” Harry said, finally, but he’d started to laugh.

“In that case, I might be willing to leave the lights on, but no promises.”

“You’re sure this isn’t a terrible idea?” Harry said.

“The high risk of encountering Gryffindor memorabilia is definitely off putting.” Pansy stepped closer, until she was between his knees, looking down at him. “But if we accomplish absolutely nothing other than getting you off, I’ll still enjoy myself.” She ran a hand through his hair, tilting his face up, then laughed. “Which I’m not getting the impression is going to be a problem.”

“Probably not,” Harry said, a little ruefully, putting his hands on her hips.

“I will absolutely get completely naked if you come to bed. You might even like it.”

“All right, I’m convinced,” Harry said, then pressed a kiss to her stomach. “Although, for the record, I’m very, very good at taking directions.” He glanced up at her, then pulled her closer, kissing a little lower. “We could start there.”

“I like beds,” Pansy said. “But I could also probably like you on your knees.”

“You know, I have a desk in there,” Harry said, considering. “And you’re tall enough to –“

“Bye,” Pansy said, with a grin, and pulled away. “I’ll be in your bedroom. Feel free to share your ideas in there.”

-

After, Harry stretched out, crossing his arms behind his head. He was still breathing hard.

“That,” Pansy said, thoughtfully, “was not what I was expecting.”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Harry said, dryly. “And if you didn’t like it, you should have said so while I was actually capable of fixing the situation.”

“I thought you were nervous.” Pansy elbowed him. “I was prepared to be encouraging and nice.”

“I forgot about two seconds after I saw you naked in my bed. It was very distracting.”

“You’re very pushy.” Pansy rolled over onto her stomach. “Who knew I’d get off so hard on that, really?” She grinned. “I like unexpected surprises.”

“Surprises are, by definition, unexpected,” Harry said, laughing, and shifted onto his side. “But I think that might have been a compliment.”

“It was,” Pansy said. “Just so we’re clear, you’re starting to ruin me for other people.” She made a face. “Which isn’t a thing, because the first time you have sex is inevitably terrible. You’re clearly doing something wrong.”

Harry grinned. “That was pretty good. But we could probably manage better. I’m game if you are.”

“I like you,” Pansy said, softly. “I like that it means something. I like that I don’t have to… fight not to feel anything for you.”

“Please don’t do that,” Harry murmured, reaching a hand out to stroke her hair off of her face. “I like you so much it’s getting a little ridiculous. I’ll be much happier if it’s not just me.”

“Oh,” Pansy said. “Really?”

“Draco caught me smiling at an expense report. I’m going to have to tell him before he decides I’ve gone clinically insane.”

“Oh,” Pansy said, again. “I wasn’t… presuming – you know, anything.”

“Pansy,” Harry said, leaning to kiss her shoulder, “I don’t take people on dates that I don’t like, and I don’t make people dinner that I’m not very interested in, and these days, I definitely don’t sleep with anyone before I’m sure I’m all in.”

“You’re sweet. This is easy.” She looked away. “And nothing is ever easy in my life, so that’s…”

“Vaguely terrifying?” Harry said, dryly. “I know. Me too.”

“Maybe I should raise my expectations,” Pansy said, finally. “I could maybe expect to keep eating dinner with you.”

“I’m going to expect to keep having great sex.” Harry ran his fingers down her spine. “I could also expect to make you breakfast tomorrow. Do you want to stay?”

“Very much,” Pansy said, arching into his touch a little.

“So stay. I’ll figure out breakfast.”

“Draco might come home,” Pansy pointed out.

“I’ll distract him while you sneak out the window,” Harry said, dryly. “Or we could just tell him.”

“Sneaking,” Pansy decided. “We can tell him after he’s done panicking about moving in with someone he’s already lived with.”

“I tried pointing out that he spends all his time with her anyway. I don’t think I was very effective.”

“Rational arguments don’t work on him.” She stretched, turning toward him. “If I’m staying, I need blankets, and they’re all on the floor on your side of the bed.”

Harry blinked at her.

“Unless we’re doing that again,” Pansy said, thoughtfully. “You’re looking at me like we’re doing that again.”

“It’s not that,” Harry said. “Well, it is, but that tattoo definitely wasn’t there five minutes ago.”

“Oh, that,” Pansy said. “There are two of them, the other one will show up at some point. They can be a little shy.”

He reached to brush his fingers over her rib cage. “Are they… magpies?”

“I’d give you credit for figuring it out, except there’s one on all your Quidditch posters.”

“Secretly a fan?” Harry said, amused. “I’m willing to let you borrow my shirts.”

“It’s my patronus. I still think the Quidditch team is terrible.”“Hmm,” Harry said. “Unexpected but intriguing.”

“No? What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know. Something deadly and given to slinking around. Or at least some sharp teeth.”

“You’re getting dangerously close to thin ice,” Pansy said, amused.

“Some sort of overly beautiful but extremely lethal snake, maybe. Have I mentioned I like snakes?”

“Why am I dating you again?”

“I think you might like me.”

“I definitely don’t.” She reached to cup his face before she kissed him.

“Not even a little?” Harry said, pulling her closer. “I’m very charming. And you seem to think I’m excellent in bed. And I can cook vegetables.”

“I’m really just in it because you’re extremely famous,” Pansy said, straight-faced. “It’s the status symbol thing. I love media attention.”

Harry went still. “Do you – I mean, are you okay with that? It’s a lot. If you don’t want to handle it, I’ll understand. I should have asked.”

“Oh no, my photo in The Prophet, whatever will I do,” Pansy said. “You’re right, I’m out, I definitely didn’t consider that at any point before now, and I’m going to refuse to be seen in public with you for the rest of time lest someone think we even know each other. Where are my clothes? I’m going to need to borrow your invisibility cloak to sneak out.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a smart mouth?” Harry said, but he was smiling.

“Never.” She considered him. “You’re worth the trouble. You do know that, don’t you?”

“I have a bad habit of dating women who don’t think so,” Harry admitted. “Or… I did, anyway. Before I got so sick of it that I just stopped dating.”

“One, those women were clearly idiots. Two, you’re also an idiot for dramatically underselling yourself.”

“Hah,” Harry said. “No one is delusional enough to think I’m a catch once they actually get to know me.”

“I do. And it’s not as if you don’t have plenty of people who don’t care about it. Your coworkers don’t. Your friends don’t. Hermione and Draco definitely don’t.”

“You know,” Harry said, thoughtfully, “until two seconds ago, I had completely forgotten about you and Draco, and now I’m concerned that I’m never going to get the mental image out of my head.”

“Jealous?” Pansy said, amused. “You shouldn’t be, he’s not the one I’m currently naked in bed with.”

“Emotionally damaged,” Harry said, then glanced down at her. “But maybe a little. He’s good at everything and obnoxiously self-assured, unless it’s about Hermione.”

“He wishes he were more like you. He says you’re more comfortable in your own skin. And much better with people.”

“We balance each other out,” Harry said, dryly. “But it doesn’t mean he’s not a hard act to follow.”

“He and I were awful together. We’re too much alike.” She shifted closer, sliding her leg over his hip. “And it turns out I might hate casual sex.”

“Is that so?”

“I like this significantly better,” Pansy murmured.

“Did I talk you into liking dating?” Harry said, kissing the curve of her jaw. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Are we?” Pansy said, pulling back to meet his eyes. “I mean… we’ve gone on four dates. I don’t know what that is.”

“You know,” Harry murmured, “when you blush, it goes all the way down. It really is cute.”

“It’s like you hate being alive,” Pansy muttered.

Harry laughed. “Or I just like baiting you. Given the entire conversation earlier about romantic entanglements and the fact that I’d like to go on a fifth, sixth, and seventh date, I’m willing to say we’re dating.”

“Really?”

“You’re also cute when you’re surprised,” Harry said, amused. “What did you tell me to stop doing? Dramatically underselling myself? I will if you will.”

“I’m working on that part,” Pansy said, softly. “I don’t really care what we call it if I can keep seeing you.”

“We’re calling it dating.” He started to laugh. “Seeing as how I have absolutely no desire to invent a whole new word.”

“In that case…” She considered him for a moment, then bent to kiss along his collar bone. “Once we tell Draco, you can take me somewhere in Diagon Alley.”

“You don’t want to, I don’t know, avoid that?”

“I have absolutely no desire to keep this a secret. You?”

“Me either,” Harry said, quietly.

“Other than keeping Draco from having some sort of dramatic mental breakdown, I mean.”

“Speaking of,” Harry said, “there’s about a hundred percent chance he’ll stay at Hermione’s tomorrow.”

“Are you about to propose seeing me two nights in a row?” Pansy said.

“Maybe,” Harry said. “Want to come over? I’m inevitably going to work late, but I could owl you when I get home.”

“No,” Pansy said. “But you can come to my place.” She stroked a hand down his side. “I have a much bigger bed. And a better liquor cabinet. And the contents of my bedside table are significantly more interesting than yours.”

“Have I mentioned lately that I like you?” Harry said. “Because I –“

“Shh,” Pansy said, pressing her fingers to his lips. “Stop talking, I’m going to go show you just how smart my mouth actually is.”

-

When Pansy woke up the next morning, Harry was tangled around her. He was definitely awake.

“You’re kind of a furnace,” she said, drowsily. “Which is good, since you kicked off the blankets three times.”

Harry laughed. “I hate blankets.”

“I’m leaving right now, that’s a deal breaker.”

“We’ve got half an hour before my alarm spell goes off,” he murmured. “I can do a lot with half an hour.”

“I enjoy that you think I’m willing to wake up for sex,” Pansy said, pulling a pillow over her head.

“You’re already awake,” Harry pointed out.

Pansy considered, then grudgingly took the pillow off. “Damn, I might not completely hate the idea of morning sex if you’re involved. That’s new.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“I’m getting up. But I guess I could live with it if you wanted to come fuck me in the shower. As long as I get the half with hot water.”

Harry nuzzled her neck. “You’re very bossy.”

“That’s not news,” Pansy said, starting to pull away. “Or at least it shouldn’t be.”

Harry laughed. “I’m trying to say that I like that you know what you want.”

“Sorry, I –“

“Shh,” Harry said, propping himself up so he could kiss her. “Quit apologizing. But also, quit assuming the worst of me.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Pansy said, lifting a hand to brush her thumb over his cheek. “I’ll try not to do that if you’ll try not to assume I’m interested for stupid reasons. Or that you’ll scare me off because people take your picture and you like to work until two in the morning.”

Harry looked in her eyes for a moment. “Okay,” he said, leaning into her touch. “Although the whole working until two in the morning thing has suddenly lost its appeal. I can’t imagine why.”

“It’s possible that I broke you,” Pansy said, thoughtfully. “Draco’s going to be very unhappy.”

“He’ll probably understand. Possibly.” He pushed a thigh between hers. “Also, I don’t actually care.”

She shifted, pressing her hips up against him. “I’m considering a goal of making sure you get extremely behind on paperwork.”

He grinned. “I’m considering a goal of being late for work.”

“You might want to avoid Draco once he shows up,” Pansy said, dryly. “I think it’s going to be stunningly obvious you got laid.”

“Possibly. On the other hand, it’s historically put me in sort of a terrible mood because it never ends well, so he’ll probably think I’m excited over Quidditch.”

“You should know that I definitely slept with you for many selfish reasons,” Pansy said, straight-faced. “Like that you make me happy. And that you’ve been winding me up with all the snogging in fields and on couches then insisting on stopping. You kept putting your hands all over me, I thought it might be more fun to do that naked.”

Harry laughed. “Damn, you’ve absolutely ruined my good mood.”

“I could probably make it worse. I’m going to need, oh, absolutely no warm up if you can stop being despondent long enough to get out of bed.”

“I do need a shower anyway,” Harry said, with a sigh. “I guess I might as well join you.”

Later, Pansy finished transfiguring her jeans into a skirt, then stepped into it. Harry was buttoning a shirt in his closet. 

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone who thinks plaid flannel is a legitimate wardrobe choice in July,” Pansy said. “Or ever, really.”

“Hah,” Harry said, coming over. “You try dealing with the world’s coldest interrogation room. See how you like it.”

“I’ll stick with my subterranean vaults.”

Harry laughed, then glanced at the clock. “It’s possible I might have miscalculated. There might not be time to make breakfast.”

Pansy tugged her jumper on. “I blame you for that.” 

“On the bright side, the bakery down the street has pastries. We probably won’t starve.”

“As long as there’s coffee. I also blame you for the fact that I woke up too early.”

“Hey,” Harry said, coming over before she could leave the bedroom. “I – thank you. For…“

Pansy stepped in, wrapping her free hand around the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss. “You can’t thank me for liking you.” She smiled. “Or sleeping with you. I liked it too much.”

“Maybe I was going to thank you for tolerating my blanket theft.” Harry leaned his forehead against hers. “You never know.”

“Who says I’m tolerating it?” Pansy murmured, but she kissed him again.

“I mean it, though,” Harry said, softly. “I’m really happy. It’s… not terrible.”

Pansy laughed. “Careful, you’ll start sounding like me.”

“I’d better watch it,” Harry agreed. “You might think I can’t stand you for several years.”

“I think I’d rather be dating you than pretending to hate you.” She considered. “Although it’s a bit of a toss up, really.”

“I’m going to make you regret saying that later,” Harry said, with a grin.

“Maybe tonight,” Pansy said, kissing him one last time.

-

“You smell like a camp fire,” Pansy said, about three seconds after she’d pulled open the door. “And I didn’t think late meant midnight. Are you –“

“Insane? Possibly,” Harry said. He looked exhausted. “Sorry, I can definitely go home. Right now, actually. Your lights were on, so I thought you might still be up, but I –”

“Are you _okay_?” Pansy finished. “I was reading. Come inside before it starts raining.”

“Oh,” Harry said, letting out a breath.

Pansy held open the door, and Harry stepped in.

“I really can go. But I said I’d come over, and I didn’t want you to think I was blowing you off. I’m already terrible about being late.”

“I wasn’t actually worried,” Pansy said, amused. “You did, in fact, owl to say that you were stuck at work.”

“Today was long. And I sort of…” Harry lifted a hand to the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. “I wanted to see you.”

Pansy moved closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m okay,” Harry said, burying his face in her hair. “Mostly. Avada kedavra on muggles always makes for a fun afternoon, really. And then someone set a house on fire.”

“You’d think the criminals would at least have the decency to stick to one crime a day.”

Harry drew back a little. “I have to be back by seven. And I’m way past the point where I want to fall face first into bed. I should probably get home.”

“Or you could collapse into the perfectly good bed here,” Pansy suggested.

Harry looked a little startled. “Would you want me to?”

Pansy snorted. “No, we can only sleep at your flat. I refuse to deal with your blanket theft unless the prospect of ruining Draco’s morning is involved.”

“I might have deserved that,” Harry said, wryly. “But I also might be incredibly tired, cut me some slack.”

“Be less stupid, then I won’t have to. Have you eaten?”

“Dunno,” Harry said. “I have a vague recollection of a muffin at some point around lunch.”

“In other words, no.” She leaned in to kiss him. “I’ll find you something. I’m not terrible at grilled cheese.”

“That sounds incredible.” Harry laughed. “In fact, that sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard.”

“The shower’s through my bedroom. You can borrow something to wear. Assuming you’re not too tired for transfiguration.”

“I’m about to make sure you have at least one Magpies shirt.”

“And I’m about to break up with you,” Pansy said, gravely. “Don’t try me.”

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.” Harry sniffed his shirt, then made a face. “Or twenty, I’d rather not smell like smoke for the next week.”

“The whole purposefully set fire thing does kind of ruin the allure.”

“I might use up all the soap.” Harry laughed. “I’m definitely going to use up all the hot water.”

“If only there were a magical solution to that problem,” Pansy said, dryly.

When Harry came downstairs, Pansy pointed to the plate on the coffee table. “I even found some soup to go with the sandwich.”

Harry immediately sat on the floor, pulling the plate closer. “Oh, brilliant,” he said, around a bite of sandwich. “I _really_ love you.” He paused a moment later. “I mean -”

“Getting ahead of yourself, Potter?” Pansy said, dryly.

Harry leaned back to look at her, considering. “Nope,” he said, finally. “I’m probably not going to say it again for a few months, but no. I’m don't think I am. Is that a problem?”

“I’m okay with it.” She looked away. “I, you know...”

“I do not, in fact, know,” Harry said, sounding a little amused. “We’ve been over my subtext problem.”

She studied the ceiling. “Historically, you’ve been stupidly charming and a little too nice to me. So I – the way I feel about you is, _in fact_ , nothing new. And was not, _in fact_ , limited to some sort of schoolgirl crush.”

“Pansy,” Harry said, slowly, “you said no when I asked you out.”

“I thought you were too good for me.” She finally looked back at him. “Literally.”

Harry paused, then got up, climbing onto the couch. He tilted her face up with one hand. “You,” he said, meeting her eyes, “are a fucking idiot.”

"Possibly.”

“Definitely,” he corrected, then kissed her.

“Go eat your sandwich,” Pansy said, a little breathless.

“Later,” Harry said, pulling his shirt over his head. 

Pansy started to laugh. “Harry.”

“Fine.” Harry summoned the sandwich and finished it in two bites, then grinned. “Happy?”

“You should probably get some sleep,” Pansy pointed out.

“Probably,” Harry said, a little ruefully, then ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to… I can come on a little strong. I mean, I know we already… you know, this morning, so I -“

“Harry,” Pansy said, patiently, then leaned in to nudge her nose against his. “I like having a lot of sex. I promise that once we can get away with it, I have every intention of keeping you in bed as much as possible.”

Harry let out a breath, looking a little sheepish. “Have I mentioned I’m truly excellent at panicking about sex? Almost as good as I am at catching dark wizards and playing Quidditch.”

“I’ll do my best to head that off at the pass,” Pansy said, dryly. “But I’m trying to point out that you have to be back at work in six hours. And you had a long day.”

Harry laughed. “I think you’re seriously overestimating the amount of sex I’ve had in the last few years, which is exactly none,” he said. “And also the amount of really good sex I’ve had, I don’t know, ever. I can live without sleep.”

Pansy considered him for a minute, then cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m willing to wake up before you leave.”

“Counteroffer,” Harry said, against her mouth. “We have sex now _and_ before I leave.”

Pansy reached for his belt. “I think I might be excessively into you, because I’m about to agree to that. But you’d better make it fast and dirty.” 

“Get the blinds,” Harry said, starting to kiss her neck.

“Yes, sir.”

Harry lifted his head. “Really?” he said, dryly.

“Too soon?” Pansy grinned and shifted underneath him, wrapping a leg around him to draw him down. “Because, I mean, if you don’t like it…“

Harry was already faintly flushed. “You know I do. Although maybe hold off on getting me so turned on I can’t see straight. No fair using things I’ve told you while exceptionally drunk at parties.” He laughed. “At least until round two. I don’t think you want it _that_ fast.”

“You know, Potter,” Pansy murmured, amused, “they call it blackout drunk for a reason. But it’s good to know I can read you.”

Harry drew back a little. “Really?” he said, dryly. “You don’t remember any of that? Not even the whole thing at the bar on Draco’s birthday?”

“Not in the slightest.” She considered, then laughed. “Wait, you avoided me for at least a month after that. Maybe two. Don’t tell me I embarrassed you somehow.”

“Yeah, well.” Harry cleared his throat. “You got fairly… explicit, and I might have assumed you were trying to piss me off. And I might also have a serious problem with one-upmanship.”

“When you said I made suggestions,” Pansy said, thoughtfully, “did you really mean that we told each other all of our sexual fantasies in a booth at the back of Fox and Hound?”

“I tried lying about them. But I’m terrible at that and you called me on it, and it went downhill from there. It was simultaneously hot and infuriating.”

“You know,” Pansy said, “the fact that you somehow managed to miss my whole thing after I presumably told you exactly how I wanted you to fuck me is extremely impressive.”

“It was more in general,” Harry protested, then paused, letting his head fall against her shoulder as he started to laugh. “Actually, that’s completely and totally untrue, you absolutely told me what I should do to you.”

Pansy snorted. “Maybe we shouldn’t drink around each other. Apparently I confess all my completely inappropriate feelings and you fail to notice.”

“I’m really bad at nuance. We’ve established this.” He propped himself up on one elbow. “But there might be an upside.”

“Oh?”

Harry grinned. “I remember some of it.”

“I don’t. But I’ll absolutely let you buy me a beer and tell me all over again the next time Draco drags us over there.” She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. “Bet it’s a lot more fun if I can take you home and follow through.”

“Bet it’s a lot more fun if I know you like me,” Harry murmured, laughing against her skin.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Pansy said, “but it’s possible I _like_ like you.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Harry said, pulling her in for a kiss, “but it’s possible I more than like you too.”


End file.
